


Here's to us

by MiriRainbowitz



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriRainbowitz/pseuds/MiriRainbowitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Supreme Court rules that banning gay marriage is unconstitutional. Almost everyone celebrates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's to us

There were disadvantages to being Captain America.

For example, on days like today, when the Supreme Court had ruled that banning gay marriage was unconstitutional in all 50 states, everyone wanted his opinion on it, or wanted to invite him to impromptu celebrations, or even just wanted to talk to him about it. 

Even if he didn’t want to. Even if he was smiling widely on the outside, while on the inside he felt kinda small, and kinda sad, and definitely not in the mood to talk or celebrate, because the one person he could be celebrating today with was someone he still hadn’t seen since last April. 

The thing was, in an alternate universe where he’d already found Bucky, and where Bucky was still his friend, he had _no doubt_ they’d be celebrating. Hell, if Bucky was here, they might even be doing the exact same thing that so many other same-sex couples were doing and just going and getting married.

But this was not an alternate universe, and Bucky was nowhere to be found, so Steve was alone.

The day passed in a blur- Steve just wandered aimlessly around the city, only vaguely aware of the parties and happy couples passing around him. He was tempted to go back to his apartment, where some Asgardian mead was sitting in the fridge, courtesy of Thor, but drinking alone was never a good idea. Who could he drink with that would even understand what he was going through?

By the time it was night, Steve was sitting on the roof of his apartment building, watching some buildings lighting up in rainbow colors, a small, slightly crumpled black-and-white picture of Bucky in one hand, a beer in the other. 

“Here’s to us, Buck,” he whispered, and if his voice was thick with tears, no one was around to hear it.


End file.
